Malice Tyrant
by ShivanSlayer
Summary: The story of a young woman who seeks an adventure of Tolkien-like scale, and gets it. However, she will soon learn why the grass is always greener on the other side. All characters and settings are "original", but the lore, and even story, is heavily based on Lord of the Rings. Takes place during modern times. Rated T: for language and violence (semi-explicit), and some "stuff".
1. Prologue

This is completely original story, that does, however, draw a lot from Lord of the Rings. There will be familiar names, especially the villain (I wanted a different name because of said "originality", but if Hellsing can have Dracula, why cannot I have Sauron for a change?). So, it may not be completely "original" per say, but consider all characters in this story OC's.

To give an overview, it's basically a modern fantasy story. It takes place during modern times, the 21st century to be more accurate, on the earth we all know (not Middle-earth, for clarification). There will be monsters, magic, and a whole slew of lore that is based off of Lord of the Rings. Having that in mind, that is why I consider this a Lord of the Rings fanfiction.

Anyway, like all other writers out there, I hope all of you reading this will enjoy it. I rated this T initially because there is swearing in this, and what is a Lord of the Rings fanfiction without some nice, intense, and admittedly bloody violence? Don't ask me, I actually haven't read a lot of LOTR fanfiction, so I wouldn't know. Enough exposition, and on to the story! The prologue! Which contains some exposition!

* * *

**Prologue**

Evil comes in many forms, which often fool or deceive.

Greed, cruelty, pride, wrath, are often cloaked in well-meaning intentions.

Evil could be staring at one straight in the face, and that one would smile back as if greeting an old friend.

But there was a time when evil was strong enough to cover the earth, to spread its wings far and wide, and enslave the peoples of the Earth.

That was when evil had one form, and that was when evil had a name.

Sauron.

In a time lost to us, Sauron terrorized the world, willing forth the powers of corruption and darkness.

But since Sauron was the embodiment of evil, all that was needed to defeat the dark lord was the indomitable will of good.

And in the darkest of times, the last alliance of any semblance of good, purity stood against the relentless assault of evil, and drove it back.

Because evil could not comprehend good, and all of the acts that came along with it, Sauron was defeated, not by weakness, but a lack of understanding.

But good could not comprehend evil, and Sauron remains to this day, hidden right in front of us, awaiting that fateful moment when the evil of men would be dwarfed once again by the terror of the Malice Tyrant.


	2. Concerning Sarah

**Chapter 1: Concerning Sarah**

"Sarah!"

The young ranger suddenly jolted around. Her companions seemed unaware of the voice shouting her name. For some reason, the person to which the comment was directed at felt a certain unease at this, a certain annoyance.

"Sarah!" rang the voice again. Once again, her companions did not take notice of the voice. The landscape, however, began changing. Quakes plagued the cliff-side upon which they were journeying on. Rocks began falling down, and the young ranger's perspective of the whole scene was switching so often that she was getting dizzy.

In the real world, the exiting students chuckled at the fast-asleep girl. Many often commented the frequency upon which this had occurred.

To be fair, it was English class, not the most exciting of subjects. And to be fair, they were studying Waiting for Godot, a book about ... about ... well ... nothing.

Rebecca shook the sleeping girl again. She shifted, responding to her friend's efforts. The sleeping girl's brown hair was a mess over her now hunched-over back. Slowly, she shifted again.

Then shot straight up, head-butting Rebecca in the process.

"Gahh! Sarah!" Rebecca shouted right after both of the girls' hard heads made contact.

"Ow," responded Sarah, a bit non-chalantly. Great, now she had a headache.

"Why'dia do that?" Sarah asked her friend, who was still rubbing her head from the initial contact.

"I didn't do that," she responded, flabbergasted, "you did!"

"Well if you'd have let me daydream a bit longer, my reaction might have been .. no wait, scratch that thought, It would've been the same."

Sarah gave Rebecca a large, sort of dumb smile. Rebecca sighed, Sarah was somewhat of an oddity for a girl. Sarah was somewhat of an oddity for a person. She was amnesiac, she could only remember the past four years of her life. The other 13 years or so that she has lived, Sarah had no memory of.

When Rebecca first met her Sarah was very spacy, had no form of social skills, and was odd in every way and form. She took an interest in what Rebecca considered extremely nerdy, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, various sci-fi and fantasy media, various video games. Sarah also took an interest in the other end of the spectrum. She was a fanatical fan of the Minnesota Wild hockey team, and was a part of the co-ed flag football team in high school. She even confined in Rebecca that she wanted to take up the tenor saxophone, just so she could imitate the sexy sax man.

The annoying thing was, of all the things Sarah was interested in, school was not one of them. Sarah had mentioned that the only reason she tried was that her legal guardian, Gregory, had pushed her so hard to excel in her studies. Rebecca had also done her fair amount of pushing, speaking of which ...

The bell rang, sounding from the hall at Rochester High.

"We're going to be late!" Rebecca shouted, flabbergasted.

"No we're not" Sarah responded, "Our next class is Gym, oh I'm sorry, Physical Edgemacation."

Sarah made sure to place heavy emphasis on the last part of her sentence, as she knew Rebecca was a perfectionist. While Sarah knew that their P.E teacher did not differentiate between 3 minutes early and 15 minutes late, Rebecca took pride in her punctuality, no matter if the teacher in charge of the class was a time freak, or if he/she was a ... P.E teacher.

As Sarah predicted, the P.E teacher didn't pay heed to their lack of punctuality. The sport being played was field hockey, one of Sarah's favorites. And once again, as Sarah predicted, it had taken quite a while for the teams to form and start up.

In fact there seemed to be an altercation.

And predictably, the culprits were a group of people who Sarah named, the "Jocks". Yes it wasn't very original, but the other two choices were either even lamer, or contained profanities. In fact, the name Sarah had unofficially named them rhymed with the official name, but instead began with the third letter of the English alphabet.

And right now, their heads seemed suspiciously similar to their unofficial nicknames. But whatever that meant, Sarah was about to let them know of their new status.

"Baggot, you make a good case, except for the fact that you suck ... faggot".

"But the teacher did say he wanted balanced teams, and I won't deny that I suck, so that's why.. I ought to..."

"Ough'ta what?" said one of the meatbags. Heh, meatbags, that was definitely a superior nickname. Sarah would have to work on the official documentation of that. But, anyway, he and his three buddies followed that lame statement up by crowding Baggins. Their physically imposing statures did the rest of the talking, for their mouths were not up to the task.

But, by golly (heh, golly) Sarah was.

"You know," Sarah butted in, seemingly from out of nowhere to her opponents. "I could have thought of a thousand superior insults than 'Baggot'."

And four years of history had suddenly been brought back into perspective. Sarah had tangled with her brain-dead opponents countless times throughout high-school. Freshman year didn't count, the amnesia had Sarah out of the loop, and she didn't really interfere with their antics. But once Sarah was in the loop, these deviants found themselves in as well. Both parties had gotten into plenty of trouble with their tussles, ending in bloody noses, broken noses, snotty noses, and the Spanish Inquisition whom no one expects.

Rebecca sensed trouble the minute Sarah had gone to confront the Jocks. Rebecca knew that part of Sarah detested when bullies picked on the weak. But Rebecca also knew that part of Sarah was always seeking a confrontation. And the more bloody and gritty the confrontation, the more irresistible it was for Sarah's wild spirit.

"So, what's the incredible she-male doing here?" the lead jock broke out with.

"I sensed a tussle in the making" Sarah responded in her usual deadpan matter, "And I sensed that you're messing with my source."

"You're what?" responded another jock.

"You know, my source, who knows everything about everything about the creation of middle-earth, the entire history of the Dark Lord Morgrath, the predecessor to the Dark Lord Sauron. Anything and everything to know about the full history of the elves. The full bio of the Maia who became the nine wizards, with extreme detail on Gandalf. He also knows all there is to know on the Isildur line, from the one who slew Sauron in the battle with the Last Alliance. He also knows the full properties on Narsil, the sword that was used to cut off the hand of Sauron and.."

"You are terrible female," interrupted the lead meatbag (heh heh). "You talk too much when you're not supposed to."

"Yeah Sarah," chimed in another, "Just go back to the kitchen and make me a sandwich."

The jocks burst out laughing. However, Sarah quickly reloaded.

"Oh come on! I'm seriously disappointed in you guys. How many times have I heard that joke? Have you really run out of ideas that quickly? What happened to the good old days of clever verbal sparring, followed by physical sparring? Actually, I'd be lying to call it sparring, that's giving you guys too much credit. It would be more accurate to call it me kicking your asses until the teachers pulled us apart."

"Scott, you're the one giving yourself too much credit. We've handed you your fantastically big ass on more than one occasion. Besides, there's four of us and one of you, so, watcha goin ta do?"

Sarah paused to come up with some form of a witty comeback. Unfortunately, Rebecca interrupted her thought process.

"Sarah," she breathed, sounding desperate, "Please, don't do this, it's only sixth period, they're just being jerks."

"Jerks who are asking for a good old-fashioned ass-kicking" Sarah bluntly answered back, attempting to wave off miss goodyMcgoodpants.

"Sarah please," Rebecca pleaded, apparently at loss for words on how exactly to deter her aggressive friend from going into something she would regret.

"Hey, they're asking for it," Sarah answered back, "and I'm a kind person, who am I to deny their request?"

It was scary seeing Sarah casually trot back to the jocks. She was really itching for a fight. All thoughts about supporting the initial victim of the jocks had gone out the window.

"Run away Sarah," mocked the lead jock, knowing that he was only egging her on, "this is better solved by running to mommy principle. Oh right, a mommy, what's that again? You wouldn't know."

"Dick move," Sarah said, smiling, not in a friendly way, "And you know what, I might just run to the office, to the pretty nurse you guys always comment on."

There was a long pause, the gym was dead silent. The gym teacher had not attempted to intervene. Some were glad that he was gone, for a scuffle in school would be quite a sight to see. Others, such as Rebecca, hoped the teacher had gone to get help to stop an already deteriorating situation. And again, others, simply didn't care.

Sarah finished with the ringer, "I'm going to tell her that she'll need to treat four patients."

It was like the neutron hitting the uranium atom. A small little spark was all that was needed to set off the atomic bomb.

Sarah was decked dead in the face, courtesy of the lead jock. She stumbled, as his friends began celebrating.

Sarah cut short the celebration by grabbing their de-facto leader in the chest, and delivering a haymaker of her own that sent him flat on his back.

The other jocks sprang into action, surrounding and holding Sarah, as the others threw their punches. Sarah was knocked around for quite a bit, until she grabbed the crotch of her captor, head butted him, and threw him down to the ground.

Sarah focused on her former captor, who was now presently on the hardwood floor of the gym. She unleashed several punches, colliding with his hallow skull.

Sarah was soon struck in the back of the head, as her other assailants began taking advantage. Sarah managed to throw back a couple of heavy punches back, but she got pinned. The jock began mercilessly beating Sarah against the hardwood floor. Stars began showing in her eyesight until...

There was a whistle, but it was not a P.E whistle. It was the regulatory sound of a police whistle. Both the jocks and Sarah ignored the whistles, and kept going at it (Sarah was kind of forced to at this point). But the police managed to pull the two parties apart.

Rebecca could only bow down her head. It always ended the same, with Sarah facing disciplinary action. It didn't matter who won the fight, in fact, in the end, no one won the fight.

...

"... have you even learned anything Sarah? Have you ever considered that this is the final outcome of every fight you throw yourself into? Why must you torture me so with your foolishness?"

And once again, Sarah had to sit through the rants of her legal guardian, Gregory. Pappy, Daddyo, were also other names he went by, provided by Sarah herself. Ever since Gregory had taken Sarah in, four years ago, he had been the only person Sarah hated to love, and loved to hate. He was a deacon at the local St. Lawrence church, super-religious and such. He had also grown up in a Catholic boarding school, provided by either his parents, or his super-strict nuns. Consequently, he seemed to have applied these teachings to raising Sarah. He was said to be a kind man, except when Sarah got into fights, Sarah got anything less than an A (which was frighteningly frequent), and Sarah did just about anything to get on his nerves. Okay, so the last part was deserved, but in essence, Gregory would have made many Asian mothers proud.

"... and were you even paying attention the last five minutes Sarah?" ended her ever so strict guardian, his face red from anger, and effort.

"Huh?" Sarah responded. The bad thing was, Gregory's rants were just as funny as frightening.

Oh this was getting good. The flustered deacon adjusted his glasses, and wiped back his graying hair, from his grizzled aging face.

"Ohh Sarah," he said again, this time, extremely exhausted, "Why, oh why Sarah? If you had concentrated on your studies as much as you tried getting into fights, we wouldn't be having this problem."

"Why, regretting taking me in again?" replied Sarah, nonchalantly.

"You have no idea," he merely answered. He then turned to the front of the rickety Church.

"Tempest!" he shouted. After a few light footsteps were herd, a slight, pale, raven-haired girl emerged from the door leading to the upper level of the church.

"Yes?" she meekly replied.

"Sarah had gotten herself into another fight today, will you be able to treat her wounds?" Gregory said, his voice losing its harsh edge, even its exhausted undertones, instead replaced with a more fatherly, loving tone.

Tempest was Sarah's "younger sister" only fourteen years of age, a freshman in high school. However, while Sarah was adopted by Gregory, Tempest was Gregory's true daughter by blood. She also seemed Gregory's true daughter by personality as well. She was exceptional in school, in both method and result, and seemed to have no trouble getting all A's her first semester of high school. She also didn't get into trouble frequently, and when she did, it was for small infractions that didn't warrent any worry.

Sarah was tentatively lead upstairs by the younger girl. Both came upon a compact room, Sarah's room. With Gregory being a deacon, he had to support himself with the church. And with two daughters, Sarah understood that the incoming bill statements always had her guardian on edge. All three family members practically lived in the church. Sarah never knew the inner workings of the Catholic religion, but figured that Gregory had to pull some strings for this arrangement.

Sarah sat on the bed.

"Please," Tempest said, "Remove your outer garments, I need to see all of your wounds,"

Sarah followed Tempest's order. Tempest's eyes bulged out at some of the injuries Sarah had sustained and began to frantically work.

As Tempest worked on her older sister's injuries, her inquisitive mind lead her to question her sister.

"What was this fight all about?" she asked.

"Dickheads being dickheads," Sarah simply responded.

"Sarah!" squeaked Tempest, who quickly checked herself after that unexpected outburst, "please, it's not polite to use that language around the church."

"Okay," Sarah responded, sarcasm dripping out of her mouth, though in a friendlier way than one would expect. "I'll do it, just for you."

"But seriously, " Sarah continued, "You would've wanted to deck them in the schnozz for what they were doing."

"I wouldn't want to start any fighting," Tempest countered, then looked down as she continued to treat Sarah.

"Fighting promotes hatred, distrust, unfairness, I wouldn't want to be the cause of that." she finished.

"Ohh Tempest, always the good-two-shoes," Sarah playfully teased, she then poked Tempest in the forehead, prompting the younger girl to blush (for whatever reason Sarah could not figure out).

"In these four years of my life Tempest," Sarah began, "I've found out that some people, only understand the language of violence. So, in a way, I'm promoting understanding by speaking their language." Sarah smiled after her own proclamation.

"But you shouldn't continue this line of thinking, Sarah. What if you grow up to be a warmonger, who takes joy in violence and the suffering of others ..."

"Now wait," Sarah interrupted in response to Tempest's mini-freak out, "Don't go that far, though I was thinking of joining the military."

Yes the military, where lots of violence existed. And lots and lots of regulations. And drill sergeants. After watching Full Metal Jacket, Sarah didn't think her thirst for violence would overcome the extreme dickery of the drill sergeants, especially if they were anything similar to Sgt. Gunnery.

And it wasn't violence that Sarah was seeking. Sure violence would be part of the equation, but it wasn't the end all be all. Sarah wanted an adventure to trek on. To journey to a galaxy far far away. To go where no one has gone before. To destroy some evil overlord's jewelry. She wanted to go where the grass was greener.

"I feel like Luke Skywalker," Sarah suddenly said. She inspected herself, it looked as if Tempest was almost finished.

"Huh?" Tempest responded, "Luke, from those movies you watch?"

"Yes," Sarah responded, "I feel as if I'm doomed to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, doing mundane things of little significance, and dying living that same repetitive routine over and over again."

"But, when he wished for adventure, " Tempest continued, "he got it, and in the process, he had to go through so much suffering. He lost his aunt and uncle, his hand, and even his peace of mind."

"Wait," Sarah inquired, "How the heck do you know about Star Wars?"

"Did you forget?" Tempest responded, "You forced me to watch all three movies in that series many Saturdays ago. I must admit, they were wonderful movies, I wonder if there are any books about them?"

Sarah sighed, Tempest and her books. Books were to Tempest as movies and video games were to Sarah (And she treasured them dearly, Gregory made her EARN them, with a vengeance). But still, despite what Luke, or Frodo, or Harry Potter lost, they went on an adventure for the ages. Their lives were not always happy, but once the adventure began, they were never bored.

Sarah sighed, Tempest had left the room, probably to read again. The day was not over, Sarah still had to go to her psychiatrist to talk about her amnesia. Maybe that was her adventure, discover what she had been doing for the past thirteen years. But what happened if she found out that she had been doing the same mundane things? Oh well, it probably wasn't worth fretting over, compared to the load of crap Rebecca would give her the next day for picking a fight with the meatbags. Sarah contemplated many tactics on ignoring her friends nagging. It wasn't so much as Rebecca annoyed her in that state, but it was also irresistibly fun doing it.

Rebecca and Sarah's relationship was a strange one indeed. They had almost nothing in common with one another. Rebecca was probably similar to Tempest in her commitment to her studies in high school, while Sarah slacked off whenever Gregory wasn't looking. Rebecca was also more into fashion and personal appearance, not because she lacked confidence, but because she found it fun to work with make-up and clothes. Speaking of appearance, they were also starkly different in that area as well. Rebecca was blonde, her eyes a flashy blue, her figure petite, her hair fashionably curly, and her height a bit short for a girl. Sarah meanwhile had straight brown hair and eyes and she was nearly 5' 10''. While Sarah was not fat, her figure was bulkier, built from four years of getting into constant fights, and flag football, in which she would get in constant fights. But she still looked feminine, it's just that she had muscles where most girls had skin, and even those muscles weren't that large and defined ...

Sarah sighed, four years of exposure to Rebecca must have infected her in some way. But anyway, they had nothing in common, yet enjoyed each other's company, even if it was to piss the other off. They also shared valuable information, Rebecca had shared the best way to tie a ponytale as to be simple, stylish, and most importantly, out of the way in order to tackle and punch others. Sarah meanwhile was able secure an autographed photo of Orlando Bloom as Legolas (question her methods later), which to this day, hangs in Rebecca's room to be adored by all. Personally Sarah preferred Gimli, but one had to cut their losses for compromise, and Legolas was a worthy badass to have a portrait of.

"Sarah!" shouted the inquiring voice of Gregory, "Sarah! You better be down in five minutes! I don't want to keep the psychiatrist waiting again!"

"You better not be playing any of your games! By the way you've been behaving today, you should be staying away from those things for at least a week."

"Okay," Sarah half-sarcastically agreed.

Sarah gathered her brown jacket and shoes, and met Gregory at the front door. He was checking his watch, not really paying heed to his surroundings.

Moments later, both entered the aging vehicle and the drive began.

"Well Sarah," Gregory began as the drive had expired five minutes, "the school has decided to leave the disciplining to me." His eyes burned towards their way towards Sarah, as he somehow was able to still avoid disaster on the road.

"How should I punish you?" he asked her, still training his eyes.

"Do I really get to decide my punishment?" Sarah asked, one eyebrow raised.

"You get to decide what you really want to do with your life Sarah," Gregory answered. "After this last semester of high school, you'll be graduating, thanks in part to me constantly pushing you."

He paused, letting the memories of constant nagging, pulling, encouraging, raging, ranting, and even slapping to get through to the girl. Hopefully, if things worked out well, these would be but distant memories with which he could use to ridicule Sarah as she struck out for the world. But...

"What do you want to do?" Gregory pushed, "Do you want to spend the rest of your life thinking what could be? Or do you want to spend the rest of your life doing what could be?"

"Even if that 'could be' is slaying dragons, sith lords, and some random eldrich abominations?" Sarah asked, keeping her generally bored stature in the passenger seat.

"I'm talking about something that exists," Gregory responded, though Sarah could observe a slight twitch in his mouth as he said it, "The journey to get a job, start a career, and live a long and steady life is just as perilous, or even more so, than quests to slay dragons, or do whatever you think you are doing in that head of yours."

"But that's boring," Sarah answered, as Gregory raised his eyebrow, she continued, "It's nothing that I haven't seen yet."

"But," Sarah continued, "I think I do have something that I want to do, that doesn't involve cutting through vast swathes of glorious demonic flesh."

"I want to find out who I was, what I was doing these past twelve-thirteen years, who my real parents were, if I had any siblings, and if they owed me any bets."

Gregory sighed, they had reached the psychiatrists' place. They were early, for once, and it was a good time to be, he had some points to make to his difficult adopted daughter.

"That's the past Sarah, and while I find it a worthy goal, I am more concerned about your future ..."

"-Then let's get this past business finished with," Sarah interrupted as she exited the car and headed towards the medical center. Gregory let out a sigh, he didn't want to let her go. And after four years of these sessions, Sarah still could not find out who she was.

But that, in of itself, was a blessing.

...

"Still no progress?" inquired the psychiatrist, leaning forward in her seat.

"No," Sarah responded, irritated, her hope for a grand adventure stifled by the same boring routine. This means this, that means that.

"Just the same peculiar dream I have each night," Sarah continued, and the psychiatrist raised her eyebrows.

"The one with the sword?" her interrogator pressed.

"Yes!" Sarah shouted out, clearly exasperated.

"Patience Sarah," warned the psychiatrist.

Sarah's psychiatrist was an elderly woman, whom Sarah always thought resembled a Judi Dench a bit. She was, however, not so stern, quite mellow in fact. She had these half moon glasses covering her eyes whom Albus Dumbledore would be most proud of.

As for the dream, every night, Sarah would experience it. A large, dark figure would hit the ground, and a sword would rise up from the cold stone ground from what Sarah could observe. The sword was quite strange, the hilt had such demonic designs on it, but it seemed very subtle in terms of color. The weapon was shaped like a medieval two-hand sword. The blade was straight, yet had dark jagged edges. The sword would then shatter. Sarah had seen the dream frequently enough to remember, the sword would shatter into five pieces, these five pieces would then fly out in different directions.

Sarah wasn't particularly frightened with the dream, and she wasn't overly fascinated with it either. She had often attributed it to her immersing herself too much in much fantasy topics.

And each time she had discussed this dream with her psychiatrist, all she asked was how long the dream lasted, and if she could see where the fragments went. She really wasn't fit to do her job if she couldn't discern the meaning of her dreams without such silly things such as location. Still, a small part of Sarah hoped that what was happening inside the dream was connected to her past.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sarah was driven home by Gregory. All three of them prepared dinner, with Sarah trying to dodge out of as much work as possible and Gregory catching on and reprimanding her for it. They then ate dinner, with Sarah trying to eat as much as possible, and Gregory reprimanding her for it. They were then sent to their rooms for homework, with Sarah attempting to rest, and Gregory reprimanding her for it. And there was much rejoicing.

Tempest on the other hand tried moderating the usual conflict between Sarah and her guardian, but of course, to no avail. And after much reprimanding, moderating, and of course rejoicing, they all sat in the small kitchen, all kneeling, facing each other.

The sign of the cross was made, with Sarah doing it disobediently, Tempest doing it subtly and Gregory doing it after reprimanding Sarah for doing it disobediently.

Gregory cleared his throat;

"The Lord is all-powerful, each of us, a small part in the vast existence that he himself has created. But the Lord is all-loving, and each of us are his children. He is the ultimate father, he will listen to us, and make the best judgment for us. We may not like his choice, we may not understand it, we may even doubt that he heard us. Temper your doubt with faith, for nothing is certain, except with faith. Let your faith ring out like a bell, and let the Lord listen to your music."

Tempest bowed her head silently, while Sarah gave a small whistle and a clap in her prayer position. After Gregory glared at Sarah for this action, he finished, "Who would like to speak first?"

Sarah quickly raised her hand, and Gregory acknowledged, if rather reluctantly.

"Old man," Sarah began, as Gregory said, "I pray to see what life has to offer me. Show me what's more than this, school, home, work, and not to mention homework."

"Sarah," Gregory responded to Sarah's prayer, "Life is boring for you, because you have never thought to look at the more exciting parts. Everything depends on what we choose to see."

"Riiiiiiight," answered Sarah, and then Tempest butted in.

"Um, can I butt in, if you don't mind,"

"Of course Tempest," Gregory replied.

Tempest breathed in and out, and recited her prayer.

"Lord, I pray that I can find one friend tomorrow, and I pray for the confidence to find that friend. I pray for Sarah, that you can guide her after high school, and I pray for Dad, that he gets the peace of mind he has been seeking."

Tempest paused, and bowed her head even more.

"And I pray for Mom, and I hope her smile warms up your kingdom even more."

There was a long pause. The normally stoic, and volatile Gregory had his head hung over, not bowing any longer. It wasn't the frustrated sadness that he employed towards Sarah, it was almost ... regret.

But no matter what, Gregory ended the prayer, and promptly sent the girls to bed, along with the warning that if he caught any of them up past 15 minutes here, there would be consequences. He notably was glaring at Sarah when he made his threat.

Sarah merely rolled her eyes as he said this, but she had no intention of testing him. The day's work of getting on Gregory's nerves had been done, enough damage was inflicted for one day. Even Sarah Scott had her limits.

Even the night was routine, same dream, same sword, same result. And before Sarah was ready, it was morning again.

Gregory slowly walked towards Sarah's room. Not a sound was heard. Tempest's room, however, had the busy hustle and bustle of a young high schooler preparing for the day ahead.

Once again, Sarah enjoyed delaying the day's start. It was too bad for her that others did not accept the validation of this delay.

Gregory, with great vindication, pounded on Sarah's door.

"Sarah!" he shouted, "It's time to get up!"

No response.

"It's futile Sarah!" Gregory continued, "Don't make me come in there!"

A small groan was heard, but no indication that Sarah had gotten up from the bed. Gregory sighed again, then burst into the room. What he saw, unfortunetly, he came to expect.

Sarah laid there, spread eagle on the bed, not even attempting to shake herself awake. Sarah wore no pajamas, and instead, just wore underwear shorts to bed ... and no top. Luckily, she had the decency to cover her top with the spread bed sheets.

Gregory saw Sarah wince as he approached the bed.

"SARAH!" he shouted, "YOU WILL REMOVE YOURSELF FROM THE BED, OR I WILL REMOVE YOU FROM THE BED!"

"Nooooooooooooo," Sarah moaned as her time for precious sleep had come to an end. Gregory consistently won the war of the wills between him and the force that kept Sarah attached to the bed. He would win this round. He began violently shaking her. Sarah attempted to roll away, but she was now awake enough not to enjoy the comforts of even lying in bed.

"We leave in ten minutes, don't keep us waiting." Gregory finished, after seeing Sarah wide awake. He didn't leave until Sarah got out of bed, but was miffed when he remembered that Sarah wore absolutely nothing on top to bed, and there was now no bed sheets to shield his eyes.

"And for goodness sakes Sarah, wear something on top when you go to sleep! It's not decent when you constantly expose yourself like that!" Gregory added. He then made his exit.

Sarah had trained herself, for all these late starts, to be a quick dresser. In five minutes, she was all dressed and ready to go. In another five minutes, she had eaten a small breakfast, and was running out to the car to meet Gregory and Tempest.

There were multiple reasons to look forward to this day. It was a Friday. There were no tests, or any upcoming tests for now. And after school, there was flag football, where Sarah could take out her usual frustrations on life out on her opponents. Yes, she might be flagged, but it was all in good fun. Well, at least for her.

Classes flew by surprisingly quickly. Usually the end of school was not so keen to approach Sarah. Maybe it was all the stares, but that usually happens after a tussle with the jocks, so Sarah paid no heed to them. Sarah only shared three classes with Rebecca, so there wasn't much fun to make the day pass by any faster.

Before she knew it, eighth period had finished, the last period of the day. Sarah had wanted to shout "Freedom" as loud and proud as Mel Gibson did in Braveheart. Now, it was time for a half-hour of relaxation before flag football.

"So, Rebecca?" Sarah asked, as she met her friend at the entrance of the school to see her off at the buses. "You wanna do a movie night this weekend, or has school gotten in the way of the good old times?"

"You mean like, Lord of the Rings?" Rebecca asked back. This was a good sign, as when Sarah had recently prodded Rebecca in the past, she had referenced homework or college applications to dodge out of these exciting nights.

"Are you sure Gregory hasn't punished you from this?" Rebecca continued.

"No," Sarah sighed, "And if he has, I'll try bending him 'till he sees things my way."

"I don't know," Rebecca answered, "Your guardian is pretty stubborn."

"Trust me, I know his soft spots. You're one of them, I bet he wishes you could've been his second daughter."

Sarah put up a large smile to finish that off, but in truth, her latest statement disturbed her. She knew she made the hairs on Gregory's back stand straight up every time she even breathed the wrong way. Was she truly a burden? Gregory had given signs that he regretted taking up the huge task of raising an amnesiac girl. Sarah had always taken Gregory's disciplinary actions as a challenge to create even more trouble.

"Sarah?" Rebecca questioned, and after her friend gave an indication that she was alive, Rebecca continued, "You've been very spacy as of late."

"I've always been spacy, and I think the buses are leaving."

One by one, the buses exited the school. Sarah had no idea where Rebecca's bus was, but guessed there was a pretty good chance that it had left.

"Shoot!" Rebecca shouted, her face red. Punctuality would never be a trait that she ignored.

Rebecca turned towards Sarah, her face red with anger, "This is all your fault!"

Sarah merely gave a nonchalant sigh, "I try."

"Ohh, and this was going to be a free weekend."

"I know."

Sarah continued, "Don't worry 'becca, you can start your weekend by taking a thirty minute nap, then you can spend it by watching your friend level some idiots in a nice game of football. I don't know about you, but there's no better way to start off your weekend."

She seemed to have won her friend over, judging by Rebecca's reaction. Rebecca just needed to call her folks to let them know of her current situation. Rebecca's parents were the stark opposite of Gregory, though Rebecca said that in elementary school through middle school, they shared many similarities to Sarah's guardian. Sarah had often wondered what caused this favorable change of heart, but Rebecca had always insisted it was because her parents trusted her with more responsibilities. In fact, this seemed to be the same way Gregory treated Tempest.

But, no matter, Sarah had thirty minutes before a game of glorious football.

Flag football was a bit different. Sarah had gotten many fearful stares, as it was still the day after she tangled with the jocks. The bruises she suffered on her face were still visible. But, Sarah had experienced this for four years, more like two and a half. There were always stares after the fights.

And flag football had the strangest of collections of people that high school had ever seen. Football jocks joined casually, to play football without the stress of competition, and less risk of injury. Nerds joined because it wasn't as time consuming as regular school sports were, and it was a good workout. Guys joined because they could chase down girls without risk of restraining orders. And girls joined because they could be chased by guys without the risk of restraining orders.

Sarah joined because girls were allowed to be more physical in terms of blocking, and tackling (even though flag football, "tackling" involved simply pulling out the flag from the ball carrier, not that Sarah cared).

And Sarah enjoyed flag football because of the bond everybody shared. The nerds got along with the jocks, and the jocks got along with the nerds. These jocks were not like their "Richard" counterparts, well-mannered, but still competative, and admittedly, kind of dumb.

Actual practice was short. Everyone's favorite part of flag football was scrimmage. The entire team split in two and played a game against each other. Sarah found this a lot more enjoyable than actual regulated competition against other teams. Primarily because she wouldn't get flagged for illegal hits. Not that she wanted to injure players on her team, they were needed to beat the snot out of the other people.

The teams were split into maroon and gold. Tom Nelson, the team captain (primary quarterback of their team, and second-string of the varsity team) typically kept the Maroon and Gold roster's consistent. Sarah was on Gold, and they were typically the better defensive unit. Most of the jocks played offense on the JV and varsity teams, so they were the better offenders.

Of course, since Nelson was a bit of a show-off, Maroon took the field first. Sarah played defensive end and linebacker. When she played defensive end, she was usually lined up opposite of a jock simply known as "Big Bennet". Bennet was big. He could have been mistaken as Michael Oher in the movie "Blindside" (Sarah had a love/hate relationship with that movie, but only because of Sandra Bullock). And, if you didn't get the reference, just know that he's big, and bla- I mean dark skinned.

Bennet was also a gentle giant, very soft-spoken. He was very polite and modest, kind of like Tempest. Sarah often thought that because of this, he wasn't starting on the varsity team, as more rowdy and over-confident (and overrated) "Richards" started over him. But she probably thought this since she herself was pretty cocky about her defensive end skills, and Bennet had stopped her numerous times.

But Sarah was coming of the adrenaline of a fight just the previous day, and Bennet did have a soft spot for those of the female gender. And Sarah exploited that to the "T". And there was much trash-talking between Nelson and Sarah.

And alas, flag football exited late. Sarah was covered with the football field. But so was Nelson. And so was everyone else who stepped on that field. Some nerds were arguing with the jocks about their existing playbook, and Sarah suspected that the nerds wanted to add options, sweeps and flea-flickers, while the jocks wanted to keep their runs up the middle, shotguns, and dropbacks.

It was dark out, but Rebecca and Sarah did not seem to mind one bit as Sarah escorted Rebecca home. There was much chatting, mostly Rebecca asking about different aspects of flag football, and Sarah struggling to come up with an explanation that Rebecca would accept. The conversation carried on, until they reached what the neighborhood called the "black" (Sarah liked to think that was inspired from "Firefly", the space where the Reavers were rumored to come from).

Two hooded figures seemed to be waiting for them in the black. They were very tall, and very bulky. And a gut feeling from Sarah told her that their intentions may not be beneficial to them.

So Rebecca and Sarah instinctively looked away from them. Best not to draw unneeded attention. Sarah cursed in her mind, she probably should have used Rebecca's parents to drive them home.

And both girls' worst fears became realized, the two hooded figures closed in on them, malicious intent seemed to emit from them.

And their voices rang out with a low, inhuman growl, "I smell power in this one."

So, as a result, Sarah and Rebecca kept their heads down and began briskly walking in their designated direction.

The hooded figures also hastened their approach, and they were gaining on the two girls.

So, Sarah and Rebecca broke out into a run.

Sarah didn't know who they were. Sarah didn't know what they were. She didn't know what they wanted from her or Rebecca. And she was not keen on finding out.

It was strange for Sarah. She usually welcomed conflict, and any other day, any other person, especially if they were the Jocks, she would have run right back and attempted to give the two the beating of a lifetime. But her gut instinct, which usually prompted her to fight, was set on her running.

And Sarah and Rebecca soon saw why, their two pursuers, who were ever so steadily gaining on them, removed their cloaks.

They were not human. Their skin seemed dark, bumpy and even moldy. Their ears were pointed like elves, but it only served to add to their demonic appearance. They had two eyes, a nose and a mouth, but these features were so demonized that Sarah could not help but think of them as demons.

And the cloaks had revealed not clothes, but armor and weapons. They were aiming to kill someone.

Both girls turned a corner into an alleyway. Everywhere seemed dark now. Both girls had gotten themselves cornered.

Luckily, Sarah's "fight" instinct was reactivated, as there was nowhere else to run.

Sarah threw a punch, and was met by the cold metal of a shield. The monster pushed Sarah off with the shield. Her hand bent in an unnatural way from this action. She wouldn't be using it, at least in the foreseeable future.

The other monster engaged Rebecca, who had absolutely no combat experience. In the corner of her eye Sarah saw Rebecca go down.

Despair began setting in, Sarah began fiercly throwing punches at her adversary. But for something so large, the monster was surprisingly evasive.

Something heavy hit Sarah in the side of the head, and she realized why her instinct was to run in the first place. Whenever she fought against any others, whether it be jocks or other idiots, she had a good shot at winning, even if it was four against one. These two, however, were completely out of her league.

"Disappointing," voiced one of the monsters. It then approached Sarah, as she only had to gawk at her opponent's enormity.

"Bash her head to pieces, the locals will not suspect."

For the first time in her life, Sarah felt genuine fear. She was going to die. Without any rhyme or reason, on this chosen night, she would exit this world. Before this moment, her largest worries were her amnesia, Gregory's nagging, and college. Now it was her life.

The gunshot rang out, but Sarah felt no pain from the bullet. Wait, gunshot? Her foes were armed with ancient weapons, clubs and shields, she did not see any firearms on them.

Sarah dared to look up in the direction of the gunshot, and was surprised by what she saw. Her rescuer held a black pump-action shot gun.

But what surprised her more was the rescuer himself. He wore his black deacon robes and glasses as he always had. Though it was dark out, his graying hair and stern face could still be made out.

Gregory.

_This new development is merely the first of many Sarah may discover. But first she must survive, and she can only do that with the help of her stern guardian. _


	3. Many Lessons

_There are no ends, only beginnings. What seemed an end to Sarah's normal life, is now a beginning to a great adventure, such as she had never experienced. That is what we know for sure. What we don't know, is how the adventure will affect her._

**Chapter 2: **

The air was dead silent. But the tension was thick. There was a reason, as someone was about to be as dead silent as the air.

At one end stood a normal man. He was armed with his robes, a gun and plenty of hidden devices, devices that could be used to combat the monstrosities that stood before him. His look was that of calm rage

It was a look Sarah had never seen in her four years of life living with Gregory Scott. She had witnessed Gregory get angry, disappointed, annoyed, even regretful. She had seen Gregory throw all his rage at her, attempting to force her to see things his way. But never, had he even expressed the pure hatred that he was emitting right now.

Even his voice was different, losing the fatherly edge it had with Tempest, or the stern quality it had with Sarah, the voice was something different. Pure malice.

"Step away monstrosities, yield, or I will send you back to the fiery pit from where you came!"

The monsters did not appear to be threatened by Gregory's ultimatum, but their attention turned away from the two girls. Sarah took this opportunity to crawl to her fallen friend.

Rebecca was unconscious, she was still breathing. Thank goodness. However, it appeared the monster broke her arm, and one of her legs. She was pretty much incapacitated. Sarah then began checking herself.

Bruises, but no broken bones. None. How could that be? And how did she even survive getting clubbed in the head? By the apparent weight of the clubs, which were now menacingly pointing at Gregory, Sarah's head should have been a bloody mess on the street.

Gregory quickly reloaded his shotgun, and pointed it at the monsters. In one smooth motion, he reached in his robes and snatched a weird bottle filled with a water-like liquid.

He then yanked out a pin from the top of the bottle with his teeth and threw out the monsters.

Sarah's first thought was "grenade!", and braced for the explosion. The device did explode, but it merely sent out a fine, yet thick mist that now covered her and the monsters.

"Gahhhhh!" shouted one of them , "Holy Water!"

Holy water? Sarah did admit, she kind of hated the stuff, even though the only difference between that and regular water was that holy water was ritually prepared. Every time she tried blessing herself with that stuff every Sunday, it would feel as if the water was trying to burn her. Maybe it was Gregory's extra discipline. But for those guys, it seemed like pure torture.

"Get over here Sarah!" shouted Gregory, "and bring Rebecca!"

Sarah crawled over to Rebecca's unconscious form and struggled to lift her. Somehow, she managed to find the strength to both stand up and carry Rebecca. As the monsters recovered, Sarah's panic kicked in, and she found the strength to sprint to Gregory.

She collapsed beside her guardian, as he fired off the shotgun. The monsters growled in agony, but they kept advancing, even if slowly. Gregory then threw another holy hand grenade at the monsters, then turned back to Sarah, his eyes showing a whole new desperate look.

"Run Sarah, come with me," he stated, in a sort of frightened way.

Sarah obliged, and she followed Gregory though the dark streets. The weight of Rebecca was slowing her down, but Gregory kept pressing on. They finally came to stop under a street light, and Sarah needed that. She could go on no further.

"I can't," Sarah said as her breaths resisted her attempts to get words out of her mouth. She leaned against the cold post of the lamp, and hung her head down.

Gregory scanned the area, his gaze stern and unforgiving.

"We should have ample time, for now," he said, "They fear the light."

"Great," Sarah said, collapsing on the ground. The bright light wasn't making her recovery any easier.

But, she at least had to make sense of things, the past hour or so had been the most intense moment of her life.

"Just what in the hell are those things?"

Gregory gulped, and he had the look now of a child who was caught lying.

"Orcs," he stated, attempting to appear matter-of-fact, but Sarah's perception on nearly everything was not simply matter-of-fact.

"Orcs," Sarah repeated.

"Yes," her guardian responded, "Orcs."

"You mean, those things that only existed in fantasy, fantasies that you kept denying me. And now I find out they exist, Orcs."

The night air was cool. But while there was a lull in the action, their enemy still approached them.

"Didn't I tell you Sarah?" Gregory now asked, attempting to salvage the situation, "That reality's adventures could be just as perilous, or even more so, than those in fantasy?"

"Yeah," Sarah answered, "I just thought you were referring to boring stuff, not stuff like this!"

"Believe me Sarah when I say this, it is indeed perilous, there is no glory in this work. I have lost more than I could even hope to bear because of this. I don't do it for the adventure, I do it because I don't want to see our world suffer."

There was a shift in the winds.

"Our enemy is near. The light merely slows them, but it doesn't stop them. But that might give us some time."

They emerged, and approached the group slowly. Sarah never really had a chance to see their emotions, but now doing so made them all the more frightening. Pure hatred poured out from their eyes. Their sickly yellow eyes.

Gregory loaded another round into his shotgun:

"Conventional weapons can kill them, but it will take too much effort, they'll be on me before I can even get two rounds off. I wasted my holy water grenades trying to slow them, and the rest of the holy water I have will be but an annoyance."

Sarah just listened, kind of befuddled. Gregory was talking to himself. She didn't know whether this was a sign of him breaking down, or if this was how he came up with plans or anything. Even after four years, it turned out Sarah knew almost nothing of her guardian.

"Tempest is too far to assist, and the church is three blocks away, not to mention the blocks are covered in shadow. Should I risk it? Is it worth it, Maria?"

Maria, the name of Gregory's now deceased wife. Sarah never knew how she died. She even forgot at times that Gregory once was married. But now, Gregory turned to her, and his fatherly look, the look Sarah was familiar with, returned.

"Sarah," Gregory asked, "I need you to do something for me, and you cannot mess it up."

Gregory removed the object strapped around his back. Then Sarah saw a hilt, a scabbard.

And as Gregory removed the scabbard, Sarah saw a sword.

It wasn't the sword from her dreams. It was sort of a generic two hand sword, it had a simple black hilt, with grips for two hands. The blade was a pale silver, and it did have some writing on it in a language that Sarah did not understand.

Gregory presented to sword to Sarah, in sort of a ritualistic, knightly, whatever-you-call-it fashion.

"Sarah," he said, and she detected begging in his voice, "I ask you to take this sword, and I will tell you how to vanquish our adversaries."

"You're serious?" Sarah asked, after a pause.

"Sarah, we don't have the time," Gregory answered.

"No, apparently, we do, those things are moving 5 inches an hour. And I'll tell you old man, I'm great at beating my enemies to a pulp with my fists. I'll be honest, when I tried that on them, they destroyed me. I have no idea how to fight with a sword."

"You don't need to know how to fight with a sword," Gregory responded, and Sarah raised her eyebrows.

"Your instincts know how fight, as trees know how to grow, and as gravity knows how to weight things down, trust me Sarah."

Sarah looked at the old man, and for the first time, uncertainty showed in her eyes.

Sarah became even more uncertain as she was handed the sword. It was heavy, she struggled to even hold it up.

"How can I even fight with this?" Sarah said as she struggled with the sword.

"The sword does not have confidence in you Sarah, for it is a part of your body, an extension of yourself. I ask of you this once, show me that reckless confidence you possess, show me your fearless attitude that has gotten you into so much trouble. Channel it through your sword, and most importantly, let go of your fear, for it is your true adversary, not the orcs."

Sarah closed her eyes, and did as the old man instructed. The night air was cool and pleasant, despite the present situations. Even though Sarah had closed her eyes, she could still feel the rotten presence of the orcs as they closed in on her, Gregory and Rebecca. It was as if she was using the force, everything just seemed a lot more clear.

Gregory watched, and prayed, and his prayers were answered, one-hundred-fold.

Sarah was enveloped in a calm golden aura of energy. The sword, which had weighed her down earlier, now felt like a large two-handed feather. Sarah pointed her new weapon at her adversaries, and her confident grin, along with her actual confidence, returned to her.

"You guys are going to find out," Sarah taunted, "That payback is one nasty son of a bitch."

The orcs' eyes widened in a new emotion, fear.

"I knew this one was a threat! Why did we not eliminate her earlier?"

There was no time for regrets, Sarah leapt right in at her enemies. The clubs and shields which seemed so tough and heavy earlier, now did not seem as threatening.

The orcs out-flanked Sarah and the one behind her prepared a devastating blow. Gregory intercepted it with a well-placed gunshot.

As the orc nursed its wound, Sarah sensed an opening from her flanker. She turned around and charged right in, blade held high.

She brought her blade down with tremendous force. The orc countered with his shield.

It did not matter.

Sarah's sword drove through the metal of the shield, into the flesh of her adversary. Sarah pushed through with her blade and finished her strike. Her enemy fell into two pieces and foul liquid sprayed out of the monster's wounds.

The second orc engaged Sarah, and had better luck with her. The monster kept the distance between it and Sarah close, as to prevent giving her space for a fatal strike. It was, however, hounded by gunfire shots, courtesy of Gregory Scott. The combination of this, and the light from the streetlight was enough for the orc to lose concentration.

And its arm

The orc howled out in pain, its shrieks waking every inhabitant in the small town near Rochester. And it did not last long.

Sarah's final blow was delivered to the neck of the orc, and it took the head clean off.

Once again, foul liquid sprayed out of the wounds, until the decapitated body collapsed on the ground, finally motionless.

But battle had made Sarah weary, and her vision grew dark. It did not take long before she collapsed from the effort.

...

Sarah had no dreams that night, she instead felt the hard surface of asphalt replaced by the soft welcoming of bed sheets. Oh great, was that a dream? Granted, Sarah was glad that her or Rebecca's lives were never in danger, but it would be such a buzzkill not to have lived out that night.

It felt so vivid, and she could even feel the bruises from it! And que her head throbbing and her arms aching. Sarah could tell it wasn't the normal bruises from the jocks she had received. These bruises were large dark and ugly, like those monsters, those orcs.

Orcs. They were real. They had to be, Sarah had the bruises to prove it.

The door to her room opened, if a bit hesitantly. Gregory strolled in, with the same look Sarah received when he first told her about the orcs, that of a child who was caught doing something wrong.

Okay, that definitely confirmed that something funny was going on last night.

"How are you feeling?" Gregory said, in one of those rare moments when anything he said to Sarah was sort of in a soft caring sort of way.

"I'm aching of something strange," Sarah replied, wondering if Gregory was going to try hiding the truth. It wouldn't matter, she would catch the old man red-handed if he did.

"It must have been a wild night last night," she finished.

"Yes, indeed," Gregory stated, grimacing, which provided more evidence for Sarah that something indeed was up last night.

"Your flag football practice seemed a bit too-"

"Hah!" Sarah shouted, jolting up to an upright position on the bed, "I knew you were going to try bullshitting your way out of this!"

"Sarah! Do not use that foul language when you are-"

"All these four years, your were practically ready to jump the shark when I was about to fib. Now I see why you did that! It is soooo damn satisfying seeing you fib about the orcs."

Gregory's look switched to serious again, and he sat on the bed. Was he going to use the Men in Black memory eraser on her? That would be so unfair, given that everything she had been through. Plus, two memory wipes would be overdoing it.

"So you know what really happened last night," he simply stated, his voice, grave.

"I really thought you were going to try keeping up with whatever lie you were going to tell me. I mean, why stop now? You've had a nice four year run." Sarah did not feel exhausted any longer, and she was ready for what the old man had to tell her.

"Yes Sarah, " he began, "there was an orc attack, last night. You managed to help me vanquish them last night. And as of last night, you know I'm not just a deacon of St. Lawrence Catholic Church."

There was a long pause, but Sarah was practically quivering with excitement.

"I am part of an organization that deals with these sort of monsters. Orcs, goblins, and a variety of demons corrupted by dark power are the adversaries of my organization."

"So," Sarah interrupted, staring quizzically at Gregory, "How much have I missed out? If fact, these past thirteen years, have I..."

"No," Gregory answered, "To be honest, you haven't missed out much. I have experience, but it was a long time ago. Secondly, you have no past with our organization. To be quite honest, I had no idea who you were when we first found you."

Sarah bowed her head in disappointment, still no answers to her past.

"I suspect, however, " Gregory continued, "That you have had to play some part in this. Your aria was one of the strongest that this organization has seen.."

"Wait," Sarah interrupted once more, "Aria?"

"The spiritual energy you drew upon when you defeated the orcs. But, now, you need more rest, Sarah, you should have no trouble agreeing with me on that point."

"So, why did you hide this from me? Why couldn't I have gotten in on this monster slaying business. You said I had a lot of that aria stuff or whatever you call it, why did you prevent me from helping?"

It looked as if Gregory was struggling for an answer, thought Sarah couldn't find out why, in fact, she suspected the answer that came out of Gregory's mouth moments later.

"I wanted you to grow up living a normal life. Sarah, this business is stressful, it has taken its toll on me, and even Tempest who..."

"Wait!" Sarah interrupted yet a third time, "Tempest is in on this! That's complete bullshit! Why does she get to have all the fun?"

"It's not fun!" Gregory interjected, "This is also why I did not tell you about this, because of your idealistic attitude when dealing with things like this! You would have found out the hard way, why this job is not all fun and games. It is no adventure, it is no journey, all that awaits us is darkness and death. I told you before, I do this job because it is a great service to the world."

"However," he continued, "You know about us. It is not within our nature, or ability, to wipe your memories of this. Therefore, I guess it is best that you join us, in the organization."

Sarah's eyes widened with excitement, "Yes!" she exclaimed.

"Don't celebrate!" shouted Gregory, "You have a lot of work to do if you want to help us in our duty. You managed to slay two orcs, but they were grunts. An experienced aria user is worth five orcs. It is a long and arduous journey."

Gregory then rose up, and began to exit Sarah's room. Sarah, however, still had one more thought on her mind.

"I don't just want to do this just 'cause I think it'll be fun," she proclaimed, "I want to do this because I think it'll help me find out about my past. Despite what you said, I think there's a good bet that something like this was involved. Pappy, I can't go on in life without knowing who I was."

Gregory stopped, pausing at the door. He was breathing heavily. He turned his head to face Sarah once more.

"I would be careful about that Sarah," he said. "It is dangerous to dwell on the past, when the present and the future bear down on you." He left Sarah to contemplate that as he left the room.

It was a Saturday, therefore, Sarah was free of school. Gregory had met Sarah once more to arrange a sword fighting practice with him at 3:00pm. Sarah felt naturally inclined to oppose Gregory at that, but remembered his proclamation of experienced aria users, but still...

"I did slay two of those schmucks on my first try," Sarah claimed, "I feel you're not giving me enough credit."

"I do agree that you have great potential, " Gregory responded, "so it's all the more important to hone that potential. Your instincts at fighting are aggressive, but they lack refinement. Not to mention, while you know how to summon up aria, I suspect that you lack the know-how to control it..."

"I 'suspect'?", Sarah asked, in the middle of Gregory's lecture.

"Yes," Gregory answered, clearly irritated at Sarah's interruption. "I am judging that you are assuming that I have the ability to control aria. I do not, I am one of the few in the organization that cannot use it. You will learn that aspect after sword fighting practice with Tempest ..."

On cue, Tempest did enter the room. Sarah gave her a sort of accusatory look, and Tempest merely shied away from a potential confrontation with her older sister. Tempest then exited the room with great haste.

"3:00", Gregory repeated, "And for once Sarah, be punctual."

Sarah rolled her eyes as Gregory too exited the room. Sword-fighting practice, and what was basically learning to use the force. Sarah did not care what Gregory said about the steps to become a member of whatever organization he was part of, this was far more exciting than what Sarah could ever learn at school. Sarah did have the creeping feeling that Gregory was going to find some way to make sword fighting practice a boring, or annoying experience.

Sarah's thoughts then drifted to Rebecca. Rebecca was knocked out that night and saw none of the fight between Gregory, her and the orcs. What was she told? How were they ever going to cover that up? Was Rebecca going to explain away that night as a mere nightmare? In fact, what exactly happened when she was asleep, did the MiB cleanup crew erase all evidence of the attack? Vaporizing the bodies, and blaming the screaming on some crazy teenagers?

Sarah was punctual and met Gregory in front of the basement door at 2:54. She had to be honest with herself, she would not have been this early if it wasn't freaking sword fighting Gregory was going to teach her! But Sarah knew that Gregory, in his infinite wisdom, was going to find some way to mess it all up.

They entered the basement and came across a dusty old bookshelf. There was nothing notable about the basement itself, in fact, the one property anyone would notice was that everything was dusty. Sarah knew what was to come next. Gregory tipped a couple of books on the shelf, which sent the bookshelf spinning to reveal another room.

This secret room was noticeably better maintained. It was a very large room, especially for such a small church that St. Lawrence was. It looked like a sparring room, with a white mat on the floor, shelves of weapons on the side and symmetry, which meant it was to teach one-on-one combat. Gregory did not speak a word as he rushed over to one of the weapons shelves, and removed two swords from it. The swords were all wood, but they weighted a significant amount. Practice had begun.

Gregory was his usual self, faulting Sarah for every little mistake she had in her technique. After a mere 45 minutes of this, Sarah had...

"Enough!" Sarah shouted, almost throwing her sword down. "You've done your best to make something as simple, yet satisfying, as swinging a giant-ass sword into a fucking chore!"

"Language Sarah!" scolded Gregory, to which Sarah rolled her eyes. He then continued, "this is not Lord of the Rings, or any of your fantasies! Training is long and arduous, not to mention, tedious. I am teaching you to instinctively use proper technique when swinging a sword! We haven't even gotten into blocking, parrying or dodging attacks!"

He took a deep breath, then continued.

"Despite your seemingly natural aptitude for fighting, you will not master sword fighting in a mere 45 minutes! It takes years of tired repetition before one can even call oneself passable in basic sword fighting!"

"Oh, come on Daddyo, I got this!"

"Then fight me," Gregory simply stated. "But be wary, these practice swords we wield may not be sharp, but they are weighted to be similar to actual two-hand swords. If you aren't careful, you will break bone, not that you'll get any chance to."

"Oh that is it!" responded Sarah as she charged in.

Gregory skillfully parried each of Sarah's strikes. He then grabbed Sarah's arm as she raised her practice sword for a deadly strike. Sarah tried swinging anyway, and her weight and momentum did the rest of Gregory's work.

The scene ended with Gregory's practice blade at her throat.

"Your throat has just been slit Sarah, I'll give you at most five seconds to live after this. You made a mistake, and there is no recovering from it."

"Oh the hell with it!" Sarah shouted throwing the blade at her throat off.

She gathered herself. Gregory meanwhile, stood in a peculiar ready stance, he was crouched low, and was gripping the hilt and blade of his practice sword.

Sarah paid no heed, and charged in, and Gregory went under her, flipping her over him. Once again, Gregory's blade was at her throat.

This process was repeated for the next thirty minutes, with Sarah charging in, and Gregory countering, and Sarah ending up on the ground with a blade at her throat.

Tempest finally came into the room, with a sort of surprised look on her face as Sarah was now attempting to wrestle the practice sword from Gregory's hands

"Gimme that damn sword old man!"

"Sarah! You've lost once again! You will not win until you've gotten experience, which I have! Now let go of the sword, or I'll make you regret it!"

"I'm gonna head-butt you, I'm gonna head-butt you, gimme that thing!"

"STOOOOOOOOOP!" rang the squeaky voice of Tempest. Gregory and Sarah immediately followed the command Tempest had issued, not knowing what they were actually doing. Their current position had them both on the ground wrestling for the sword. Sarah casually pushed Gregory off and stood up. Gregory then stood up, and whacked Sarah across the back of the head as a response to her earlier action. Sarah merely answered with a sneer towards her guardian.

"Please," Tempest asked, with a complete change of volume to her usual quiet self, "There is no need to quarrel."

She then directly faced Gregory, who was now straightening his glasses, "Father, you did say at this time, that I was to teach Sarah about aria, is it a good time to start now?"

"Wait," Sarah butted in, "Mr. PappymcIknowseverything isn't going to teach me about this stuff?"

"No," Gregory harshly barked back, as a response to Sarah's tone, "Don't you ever remember? I do not possess the ability, like you or Tempest, to control aria, now off you go."

"Come," prompted Tempest, as she led Sarah upstairs, out of the secret practice room, and up from the basement.

Both of the girls dressed for outside, as Tempest mentioned that their training would take place in the great outdoors. Sarah was just glad that they would be away from Gregory for a while. And while Tempest was a goody-two-shoes, she was way more bearable than her guardian.

Sarah knew from her four years at St. Lawrence that Tempest was extremely introverted. She hardly talked to anybody at school, whether it be middle or high school. Tempest, however, was extremely open with Sarah, though she still maintained her shy demeanor. Sarah now wondered how much of that was a front, and how much of her act was the true Tempest.

It wasn't really training that they were doing, but walking. There was a lake in a path near the forest that Tempest enjoyed walking to frequently. Sarah had often accompanied her little sister in her little walks around the lake. While she thought they were boring, it was admittedly nice to spend time with her little sister, who always closed herself to other people, but always opened up around Sarah.

But now, it was time to see Tempest truly open up.

"Take it in Sarah," Tempest finally saying something, "The trees, the snow, the lake, even our walkway. It is present in all of it. Feel the beating of your heart, the rushing of your blood, the sparks of your brain. This is the energy that drives you, aria."

"So, kind of like the Force?" Sarah deadpanned.

Tempest answered, "Yes, kind of. Just like it, without aria, our world would not exist. Aria is purpose, driven by desires to do good."

"So wait, this energy decides whether you've been a good girl or boy, or whatnot?" Sarah asked.

"In a way," Tempest responded, "It responds to actions not driven by our inner, darker desires. So, to speak in Freudian terms, you need a strong Ego and Superego to master using aria."

"Aria isn't some energy you can summon up on a mere whim, even after years of training, no one has been able to do that. It is something you are never a master of, or even a user of. Aria has a will of its own, we are merely its guides."

Sarah looked at their path again. Tempest appeared to have gone into lecture mode.

"There are two ways to evoke this energy, around us and within us. These two methods generate different results. The first way is probably more suited to you, Sarah. It is the way of the warrior. You call this aria with your own instincts, and it will respond accordingly. Since aria is a natural energy of the earth, this has the property of enhancing your physical abilities. Experienced warriors can focus aria at specific points in their body during specific times. For example: they need to run faster, aria goes to the legs, they need a fatal strike, aria goes to the arms, they need to see farther, aria to the eyes, and so on. The honing of the instincts is needed to control aria this way."

"The second way, the way I specialize in, is the way of the mage. It requires immense mental concentration, and it uses the aria around us for specific purposes. Summoning aria this way allows us to control the elements, heal the wounded and the sick, protect others, and many other abilities. Since aria has a will of its own, in order for us to guide it, we need to give it specific directions, which is in the form of spells in the language of the ancients."

"For example," Tempest said, and stopped at the side of lake. Sarah had lost track of time, how long did it take Tempest to spit that all out? Not that she was bored, this was the kind of stuff that she was interested in.

Tempest began speaking in a different language, which Sarah assumed was the so-called "language of the ancients". Tempest's voice, however, changed in quality. It was still the same pitch, but became a lot more powerful and echoy. It was also very airy and whispery. Sarah looked around to see if anyone else was watching. Luckily, during this time in winter, especially in Minnesota, people don't enjoy walking out in the cold.

However, what grabbed Sarah's attention immediately was the small ball of water rising out of the not-frozen lake.

"Nice," was all that Sarah could say as Tempest moved the ball of water around. Sarah may have gotten a C in physics, but she knew that water could not possibly move that way.

"See? The spell is a request to the aria of the water, those with the mental concentration and training are able to guide the aria into giving them control of the water."

"Sweet," Sarah responded.

...

After more sword-fighting practice, which had the usual antics between Gregory and Sarah, after they had cooled down from the practice (they needed it). Gregory led Sarah to a strange compass-like device.

"The last thing you need to know for now, is our tracker. If you haven't figured out yet, it tracks orcs. If you've remembered from the past, the weird sounds the furnace would make in the basement, this was the actual source of the sounds. The amount of beats it generates are the amount of creatures, whether it be orcs, goblins or other demons."

"Niiice," Sarah responded, "And judging from my memory, you haven't had to deal with that many orcs."

"No," Gregory answered, "We haven't, thankfully."

"So, now that you've practically have shown me your inner sanctum, you basic ideals, and not to mention, you've trained me..."

And Gregory winced painfully after that statement.

"Am I officially part of this whole shin-ding? Or is there some ritual I have to go through?"

"In a way," Tempest answered, and probably for the first time in Sarah's life, Tempest was given a sharp look by Gregory.

"Yes, just one, you are told the name of the organization."

"Oh," Sarah said, slightly disappointed, "That's it?"

"Yes," Gregory responded, he then recited, "In a world of chaos, we are order. In a world of injustice, we are justice. In a world of oppression, we are freedom. In a world of shadow we light the way. We are called, Illuminators."

_And with those words, Sarah takes a small step, into a larger world._


	4. An Arrow in the Dark

**Chapter 3: An Arrow in the Dark**

It is a universal truth that a woman in possession of great power will be in want of some great ass-kicking. Unfortunately for Sarah, she would not get what she wanted.

After being inducted into the so-called, "Illuminators," life returned to normal. Sarah still had to go to school to maintain a cover. She had to maintain grades for a cover, and Gregory was ever-so happy to push that upon her. And she still had to piss off Rebecca as a cover, not that she was complaining about that.

The whole school was abuzz about the attempted "mugging" that Sarah and Rebecca were a part of. The official story was that both Sarah and Rebecca both got their asses kicked, but the police showed up just in time as the muggers were about to make off with the girls' possessions. Was that what the MiB cleanup crew did, make Sarah look like a helpless wuss? At least mention that both of the muggers had painful crotches after they had knocked them both out, that would be respectable.

Of course, she was getting a lot of crap from the jocks about that. Now that she was being trained for combat against bigger and better things, Sarah would have liked to show off her new found fighting discipline against the jocks, but every time she came across them, Tempest was always there to protect the jocks.

"You cannot display your new powers to the public Sarah. Imagine all the trouble we would have to go through."

"No one would question me curb-stomping their asses, I've done it before," Sarah harshly responded.

"Yes but," Tempest argued back, in her usual meek style, "Please, fighting won't solve anything."

"It's done a lot more wonders for me than Calculus, that's for sure," Sarah said under her breath as she decided to simply respond with a witty insult to the jock, then continue on.

Oh yes, there was dealing with Rebecca. Sarah managed to catch her during gym, and pressed her on with that night.

"I remember it being very frightening. I had a dream about it one night, where the two muggers were actually orcs, and they tried clubbing me to death. I think I'm going crazy because of this Sarah! I don't know what's real or not!" Rebecca ended her freak-out with a breath of air, along with a groan, that one would call a sigh.

"You don't know the half of it," Sarah responded.

Seventh and eighth periods, and in-between were filled with Sarah being bored, and daydreaming about orc attacks, jocks jeering, Sarah attempting to get into another fight, Tempest trying to talk Sarah out of going into another fight, and the Spanish Inquisition ...

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

"Nooooooobody expects the Spanish inquisition! Our primary weapon is surprise, surprise and fear..."

Everyone looked at Sarah in a sort of a weird way as her recited Monty Python line only got two or three laughs.

It was strange, one would think that Mondays or Tuesdays would be the worst school day, but Wednesdays were truly the worst. Maybe it was because Wednesdays lack the post-weekend layover, that Mondays and Tuesdays have, and the pre-weekend buildup that Thursdays and Fridays have. I certainly don't know.

After seeing off Rebecca to the busses (which Rebecca didn't miss, despite Sarah's efforts), taking a thirty minute nap, and sacking Tom Nelson nine times in flag football, all of them straight-on tackles, Sarah walked home, this time in a noticeably lighter evening.

All along the way, Sarah was practically praying for orcs to show up and brighten her day. When she reached the Church, she practically hung her head over in disappointment.

As she entered the Church, Gregory's voice rang out loud and clear, "Sarah! Lessons start now! Hurry!"

Even the sword-fighting lessons had lost what little luster they once had. They kept drilling certain strikes, parries, and dodges, all with the same boring repetition and nagging that Gregory was known for.

"You are just going through the motions Sarah! Just like in school! If you want to succeed in anything, you must put your soul into it!"

"Can't I learn about pointed sticks now?" Sarah responded with a faux-british accent.

"Shut up!" Gregory shouted back, and pressed on with practice.

Sparring with Gregory, however, made the day better, in a way.

In one way, Gregory was right, working the proper technique into her system allowed her to better defend herself against Gregory's counter-attacks. But on the other hand, since she could better defend herself against Gregory's counter-attacks, she could kick the old man's ass in no time flat.

Of course, Gregory could not help but rub it in, "See Sarah? Repetition is key. I'll admit, you are advancing faster that I had expected. Despite that, you still have a long way to go."

It was the aria training that was truly pissing Sarah off. Tempest was not an aggravating teacher. The subject matter was pretty interesting. It was, however, that Sarah had made absolutely no progress from day one, and she was trying her darn hardest to master it.

"Aria is all about mindset, as well as practice, Sarah. You cannot think of it as something to use, you must consider aria as an ally of whom you are asking a favor of. In the way of the warrior, you are calling it with your instincts, emotions and some concentration. In the way of the mage, we evoke it with incredible mental concentration and the words of the ancients."

"I'm well aware of that Tempest," said Sarah through her gritted teeth, as the aria energy she summoned fluctuated angrily around her, "The damn thing just won't listen to me!"

"It's not something you will get overnight Sarah, just like sword-fighting practice it takes years of experience to get used to it," Tempest reassured.

"But," Sarah countered, "I'm already seeing results from sword-fighting. I can hand Pappy's ass on a platter any day at any time. But this, this freaking THING, I'm not getting ANY results!"

All Sarah could do was what she did from day one, summon up a big ole' energy cloud. While this certainly helped her physical abilities a lot, Tempest had mentioned that it lacked focus, that Sarah was not getting as much physical enhancement as she could, because of the stupid "ally" rule or whatever.

Finally, practice ended, with Sarah making no progress in her spiritual training.

The girls were sent off to do their homework, with Gregory being more active than usual with Sarah, literally leaning over her back to make sure she was doing homework and nothing else.

"Is this really necessary?" Sarah huffed as Gregory was shaking his head at an equation she was working on.

"People cannot suspect at all that you are up to something else. If your grades rise, most will think that you are devoting more time to your studies, and not doing some crazy orc-slaying business," countered Gregory.

"Why keep this a secret anyway, isn't it better that the public knows about this so we all could go on orc killing sprees?" Sarah shot back.

Gregory responded, "The enemies of the Illuminators hide in the public. We are not only hiding from human's eyes, but from demonic eyes as well. If our enemy knew specifically who we are, we would be at a disadvantage."

Sarah gave up. Gregory then continued to hound Sarah until her homework was all done, then directed her to bed. Another day, another routine. Seriously, was there no end to this?

The furnace went off. There were a lot of beats.

Sarah's boring day, was about to have an exciting finish.

Gregory rushed downstairs to check the tracker, his eyes widened.

"Nine," he said to himself, "Never have this many come up here, do they know?"

"SARAH! TEMPEST!" shouted Gregory, attempting to summon both girls downstairs. This was not needed, as both girls had practically teleported downstairs.

"Tempest, quickly instruct Sarah on how to dress for battle," Gregory ordered, then disappeared into his own separate room in order to prepare his devices for the upcoming battle.

"Here," Tempest motioned, holding a metallic, semi-chain-linked shirt. "Mirthil, it is spirit armor, it will activate once you summon your aria."

"Sweet," Sarah responded, as she took off her outer shirt to apply the Mirthil armor. There were also Mirthil underpants, along with Mirthil boots and gauntlets. The gloves and boots weren't anything impressive, both were brown, and sort of ragged, but each carried a feeling of weight.

Tempest, however, was decked out in full grey raggedy robes. Upon her head was a classic crooked wizard hat. In her hand, she held a large wooden staff. She looked ridiculously cute in that, but Sarah had to ask, "Why?"

"These robes are sprit-spun, they help increase my sensitivity to aria, but there is time for explanations later, we must go!"

Tempest led Sarah to the ever-famous back entrance of the church. There were town rumors that it was haunted. It led directly into the basement, which was why few even entered the basement itself. Looking back, Sarah figured out why Gregory wasn't so keen on dispelling those rumors. It was those rumors that helped them operate discreetly.

There they met Gregory, who was decked out in his "battle deacon" attire. He was holding something in his hands.

It was the sword Sarah wielded when she defeated the two orcs from the other night.

"This is the sword Maria wielded while she was able to fight evil. Understand the responsibility you have when you take it. Will I be able to entrust this to you?" Gregory proposed.

"I won't disappoint you, old man," Sarah said, in probably one of the most serious tones Gregory had ever heard Sarah say in his four years with her.

"You better not," was all Gregory could come back with, as he led his two daughters out into the night.

...

"Smell the air, my brothers," ordered one of the creatures. The eight others immediately followed this command, their low, ragged breaths the only sounds in this time of night.

"What do you smell?" prompted that same orc.

"Water, this town is situated near a lake, which leads to a forest. A possible retreat path."

"Gasoline, there are plenty of trespassers in vehicles, subtlety is recommended."

"Light, they prowl the night."

The lead orc smiled, his grin showcasing many sharp, dirty teeth, "How many?"

"Three," said the one he was talking to, "One holds a common smell, nothing to be concerned with, the other, a quiet, but commanding smell. There is a mage among them."

The other orcs murmured among themselves, the lead orc raised a hand to silence them.

"And what of the last one?" he asked his tracker.

"Confusing this one, but there is a sense of activeness among this one. A warrior."

"Our mysterious swordsman," said the leader, smiling once again, the smile this time was larger, and more grotesque. He turned to the rest of those under his command.

"My brothers, our path to vengeance is clear. We shall kill this swordsman and paint the streets with his blood. May the shards of Teneburous guide us."

"May the shards of Teneburous guide us," repeated the rest of the pack. The tracker orc went to the back of the group, and smelled again. Something caught his attention, but when he checked again, it was gone. It would be prudent, however, to warn his commander about it.

The orcs had gathered in a small dark alleyway. They had moved out of the alleyway to meet their opponents.

Unbeknownst to them, another was present during their meeting, but this one was positioned, high over the rooftops, where the orcs could not see him. And, after the proper rites, they could not sense him as well.

And as the orcs moved out, the mysterious other took note of their conversation, and sped off into the night.

...

Another group was active during the night. And any other person would comment of the strangeness of these people. There were three, two girls, one a bit short, but very slim, covered in wizards robes. The other girl was taller, and a bit stockier, wearing a brown coat, with a large, sword-like object strapped to her back. The third one was a man, and he looked as if he should have been hunting vampires in Van Helsing.

In essence, that was what Sarah, Tempest and Gregory were doing. Sarah was quivering with excitement. On one hand, she would be going into a fight, showing off her new moves (for once), on the other hand, she would finally be doing Gregory proud in something, not that she cared, but, it definitely was a bonus.

"They are on the move," Tempest said, her eyes closed. All that Sarah knew was that aria-sensitive beings were able to have a sixth sense that felt the location, and sometimes, even power of beings near them. Again, like the force.

"One of these orcs, I'm getting something different. It feels fouler, stronger," she continued.

"A commander?" Gregory asked Tempest, he was clearly nervous.

"It- it is likely, though I wouldn't know."

"What's a commander?" Sarah asked, feeling left out.

"A sort of 'squad leader' for the orcs, generally smarter, as well as more powerful. Tempest and I have only faced one in our experience, and it was not a pleasant experience." Gregory said, his face shuddering from the memeory.

"Well, now that you have three, this should be a piece of cake," Sarah commented, putting on a little smile.

"It's never easy, and you still are a rookie. You've only had experience battling two orcs, with my help. But for this fight, I partially agree, we'll need all the personal we can get. That is why, before we went out, I've sent for another."

"Another?" Sarah asked, immediately intrigued.

"Yes," Gregory responded, "Though it may be a while before he gets here. We'll have to deal with these orcs on our own for now, until he arrives."

"It could be a girl," Sarah teased.

"How is that ever of any importance?" Gregory shot back.

Tempest held the group back, her eyes wider than Sarah had ever seen them (and that's saying something). "They're here."

Out of the dark shadows of the town they emerged. Nine shadows walked forward to meet the group. Sarah immediately recognized the feeling of eight of the shadows, the ninth, however was different.

His shadow was taller, darker, and even more menacing. He lead the group. It was like in video games, he was the elite opponent that took more hits to take down, and he was able to deal out more damage. Once he was gone, however, the rest would be hopeless.

But right now, this group did not seem hopeless as they approached the three Illuminators in the middle of the street. Tempest's eyes darted back and forth, and Sarah randomly thought of her looking both ways for cars. Not that cars were the only thing that could kill them at this moment in the night.

Lead orc opened his mouth, his voice a low growl. It was not angry, in fact, Sarah could swear the guy was jeering at them.

"So there is our mysterious swordsman! And what a disappointment. Our brothers are dishonored to be struck down by such a lowly warrior."

"Run your mouth while you're at it ugly," Sarah shot out, drawing her sword at the orcs. They responded in kind, drawing out their weapons and shields, and bunching up in an attack formation.

"Sarah," Gregory whispered to his hot-headed daughter, "I do the threatening around here."

The commander paid no heed to those actions. His weapons weren't even drawn. He did back behind his comrades' formation, however.

"I will not waste time crushing ants," he said, and Sarah was heating up from his indirect insult, "and I expect you, my brothers, to do the same."

After a slight pause, the lead orc smiled as he said, "Kill them quickly."

The orcs charged right in towards the three. Gregory immediately threw a pair of holy hand grenades at the group, while Tempest began whispering her ancient language.

Sarah reared up for a charge, but Gregory held her back. "Not yet, orcs in formation are formidable opponents."

On cue, the grenades detonated, spraying holy water all over the orcs. Their formation became bobbled and broken.

"Now!" Gregory shouted, and Sarah wasted no time in charging forward. She reached one orc who had just recovered from the holy water, and went through the motions of a two-handed attack.

Her sword cut through orc metal, flesh, then bone. And when the rest of the orcs finally recovered, their comrade was on the ground in two pieces, cut clean through the middle, head to ground.

Sarah pressed on with her attack, accompanied with gunshots courtesy of Gregory. She decapitated one orc, while another one attempted to avenge his brother by attempting to decapitate Sarah. Sarah went under him, and flipped him over, then used a two handed stabbing technique that Gregory taught her, which went straight through the orc's neck.

Her next attacker attempted to do the same, but Sarah had enough time to wind up another attack, taking out both of the orc's legs. The last one tripped from either surprise, or even fear, and Sarah made quick work of him.

"Sarah, they've flanked us!"

Sarah turned around and saw that the other four that had charged her had broken off from the main group, and were attempting to attack Tempest and Gregory from behind.

Luckily, Gregory and Tempest had their tricks.

Tempest shouted out a spell word and raised her staff, horizontally to the sky. A large dome of light erupted from her, covering a large circle around her that encompassed both Gregory and her. The flanking orcs were also caught in it, and they screamed in pain. Their movement halted to inches per hour.

Sarah charged back into the blinding dome of light to confront the orcs. They saw this and attempted to make their retreat. Sarah lept up into the air, feeling the adrenaline of battle carry her through the air, before landing on the trailing orc, her blade cleanly penetrating his chest.

The remaining pair of orcs then met up with their leader, who Sarah could have sworn was on the other side a moment eariler. The commander barked a couple of incomprehensible words at his subjects, before approaching the dome of light.

"Form up, Sarah," Gregory ordered, and Sarah, while wishing heavily to engage the commander, silently followed Gregory's command and retreated back to Tempest's and her guardian's position.

The commander sneered at the three. "You are formidable mage, to generate so much light. But darkness consumes all!"

Then the orc began chanting in another language. His voice became booming and powerful and low as _blackness_ began to gather at his position. He pushed his hands forward while still chanting, and the blackness rushed forward, attacking the dome of light.

Tempest began chanting in her echoy, whispery voice, and the two voices clashed as much as their spells did.

The struggle went on for some time, neither Tempest or the commander gaining the advantage. The commander then stopped his chanting, and the blackness consumed him, and he disappeared from sight.

Both Tempest and Gregory started scanning the area, and Sarah just looked downright confused. That guy knew how to use spells? But there was something different about the way he called the spell. Yes he seemed more evil doing it, but when you are an orc, everything you do probably seems more evil than what a normal person would do. But the language in which he spoke it in seemed ... different.

It was understandable to think that their enemy used a different spell system than they did. Heck, Sarah wouldn't be surprised if the orcs used the "dark side," this seemed close enough to Star Wars as it was. But there was something strange about that language, something... almost familiar about it.

And then, it struck Sarah, the presence of the commander. He had teleported merely to a safer position. Sarah could literally feel his rotten presence. It was high up off the ground, but where was it? And, if he was retreating, why wouldn't he had gone farther? Sarah then realized, he wasn't retreating.

He was setting up another attack.

And the attack, an arrow as black as night, struck her in the knee.

Pain exploded through the joint. Sarah could see her previously blue pants dyed a crimson red. Strength left the knee as she lost her balance and collapsed on the hard asphalt.

"Sarah!" Gregory shouted, as he rushed to her position. Another arrow took his legs from underneath him. Tempest too was incapacitated by an arrow.

Sarah struggled to get up, using her good leg. But yet another arrow ended that hope as she fell face first on the ground.

It was like the previous night, she was completely hopeless.

But on that night, Sarah felt a paralyzing fear. This night was different. She felt a rousing anger within her. She would not be hopeless. She would prove to Gregory that she was right for this job!

Sarah now used her arms to prop up into a more upright position. She yanked the arrows out of her legs, one-by one. Her anger and newfound adrenaline helped nullify the pain. She then shouted out;

"You little pussy, come down here and fight me! Or are you too scared to get your ass kicked?"

Blackness appeared in front of her, and out from it, emerged the orc commander, a seriously deadly look in his face. At her throat, he held the rotten, jagged edge of his sword.

"I could have easily aimed for your head, your chest, your stomach, or even your neck. While you were foolishly fighting my brothers, I could have stepped in at any moment and stabbed you in the back."

His mouth formed into a grin yet again, showing yellow and black canines lined across his vicious maw. His demonic eyes seemed to glow with anticipating glee.

"But now, I am not here to be efficient." As he said this, the blade was released from Sarah's neck, and the orc propped Sarah up, ignoring her groans of pain.

"Take up your sword, earth-born, and I shall show you my superiority!"

With that he yanked a shield off of his back, and positioned his blade in a ready stance. Sarah finally fully got up, and was able to pick up her blade as well. She positioned herself in a standard opening stance with the sword.

The night once again was cool, it was always cool, or cold early in the year. Both combatants stared each other down. Sarah felt a breeze flowing through her hair, across her sword, and through her jacket. The orc commander as well felt the cool breeze, although he showed no reaction to it.

It was Sarah who made the first move. She found the strength to charge right in at the commander. He swept aside her initial strikes with his shield, and struck her shoulder with his blade. Sarah could feel blood flowing down her sides as she pressed her attack, but to no avail. The commander then struck her across the head with his shield, sending Sarah flat to the earth.

The commander seemed to straighten in triumph. But Sarah was not done yet, as she quickly recovered from the ground.

She charged at the commander once again. He swept his shield once again, but Sarah slid under his shield, and delivered a slash right to the monster's crotch.

The commander groaned in pain, but not as much as Sarah expected. In fact, he just seemed more pissed off. She rose up once more to prepare for his offensive.

He was the one charging now, leading with his shield. He slammed it into Sarah, who tried using her injured legs to hold ground. While she slowed him significantly, he was still driving her back, even if it was by mere inches.

He stabbed with his blade, catching Sarah in her bicep. It was now Sarah who was getting pissed off, as she grabbed the orc's hand.

In a last adrenaline rush, she lifted the commander and flipped him on his back, onto the ground. He crashed heavily against the asphalt, and Sarah prayed that was the deciding strike.

It was not.

The commander began to rise. Sarah charged in to prevent the commander from getting up.

The commander shouted at her, the strange words in his language, a short stout phrase. Sarah was pushed back by an unknown, unrelenting force, which sent her flying onto the sidewalk, the impact from the concrete sending shocks throughout her body.

Sarah quickly rose up, getting her sword immediately ready, and pointed at the approaching orc. He was breathing heavily, and all signs of anticipation or taunting gone from his eyes. It was now the same as the others. Pure malice.

They stood opposite from each other, with the knowledge in both their heads that the next strike, may be the last.

It was, as the orc commander disappeared from sight.

Sarah blinked, where had he gone? Did he finally run away?

"This is the difference between us," the commander calmly said, hate seething in his every words. The commander was right behind her!

Sarah felt an intense burning across her back. She felt her blood splattering out in gracious amounts from her body. Her head became light, and she collapsed to the ground once more.

"Your fighting instincts are formidable, your technique, passable, your power, raw." The commander calmly lectured, stepping over the bloodied body of his opponent, "And that is it, your power is raw, you have not refined it so you could fully suit your purposes. That is what separates you, from me."

"The fight was short, but fierce little earth-born," the commander sneered, "You have earned yourself, a warrior's death."

Sarah could not believe it. Once again, she was flat on her ass, thoroughly beaten. She and the great big old man were due in for a long talk.

That she would have to wait for, because the orc was struck by a dues ex machina arrow from the heavens. Was there no end to this embarrassment?

The orc yelled out in pain, finally, as the golden arrow did strike a critical spot. Sarah had yet to see who the archer was.

The archer was figure cloaked in black, though the cloak was more similar to a hooded trench coat, or something similar. As the face came into view, the mouth and nose were obscured by a mask, but Sarah could see the black-brown eyes' positioning, and shape, and confirmed it was a guy, possibly a younger one.

The commander managed to recover, and he faced his new opponent. He first looked at him with anger, then his look reverted back to the half-jeering look he held with Sarah moments earlier.

"You have impeccable timing, mysterious ranger. But do not think one surprise attack gives you the advantage."

The ranger raised his head, and approached the orc calmly, drawing a second golden arrow. Sarah had to wonder why the guy dressed in stealthy clothing would have golden arrows.

The ranger said no words as he fired the bow, which was deflected by the shield of the commander. The commander then used his teleporting trick one more time.

The commander appeared directly behind the ranger, who disappeared in a flash of light. The orc showed a look of surprise, before deflecting a flanking arrow that the ranger had fired from his new position.

The commander this time lead a straight-on charge, closing ground quickly against his opponent. But the ranger was far from hopeless without a drawn arrow, out from under his cloaks emerged a smaller, one handed sword, which he was able to parry the first few strikes the commander sent at him.

It was a completely different from the rough and tumble style Sarah used, and a part of her mind suggested that it was because he had more experience under his belt. It was fluid, smooth, quick, and even flashy, something that Sarah thought would be reserved for Hollywood, not an actual fight to the death.

The ranger finally got the best of the commander, managing to reload an arrow ridiculously quick while in close combat. The arrow struck the commander on one of this thighs. The commander groaned as he fell to his knees.

But, as the ranger charged the orc to finish him off (why didn't he shoot him?), the orc shouted his same pushback chant, which sent the ranger flying all the way down the street.

"You have won this round, earthborn, but I am a loyal servant of the dark lord Sauron, and I, like my master, will return."

The monster began chanting something different. Blackness gathered around him once more, and he was consumed by it, once more. But, after the spell, Sarah couldn't feel his presence any longer, he was truly gone, for now.

The ranger had rushed over to the fallen forms of Gregory and Tempest, crippled with arrows, but alive. He then administered a bottle to them, filled with this ... golden liquid, seriously, did this guy have a gold fetish?

Then he approached Sarah, and he finally removed his hood and mouth-cover. He was young, about Sarah's age, maybe a bit older. His hair was jet black (or maybe that was the color from the night), and long, and spiky. It was kind of like those Japanese cartoons Sarah heard about at school, what were they called again?

And his eyes seemed, inexplicably, full of hate. And Sarah had a funny feeling it was directed at her.

And finally, he spoke, "You shouldn't have tangled with the orc commander, he was way out of your league."

"Uhhhh, thank you," was all Sarah could reply with. There was that funny tingling sensation she had with this guy.

"You should have retreated, and waited for me to arrive, or were you too inexperienced and stupid to realize that simple fact?"

Oh, that's what the feeling was! The I'm-gonna-deck-you-in-the-schnozz feeling she got with the jocks!

Sarah replied, "You know, you could've said, 'Hey woman, I'm a gigantic asshole!', that would have gotten the message across, a lot more efficiently."

"And by the way," she continued, "He was not way out of my league, if you saw, I slashed the guy in the orc-sack, I think that was worth at least 100 'Whose Line is it Anyway' points."

"Enough," he instructed, "I do not have time for this."

He walked over to Gregory, who was standing straight up, as if he had never been shot with an arrow in the first place. Tempest was as well. Sarah concluded it was that golden stuff that was doing the trick and she reached for the bottle ... which wasn't there. In fact, the guy didn't even give her any of the magical-healing golden stuff!

"The council received your call, and they sent me," the youth stated at Gregory, in the same semi-emotionless tone he had used with Sarah. Seriously, she had to find out what the heck was up with this guy.

"I can see why, you have a passable mage, but you lack ... an experienced warrior."

He then leaned in and started whispering to Gregory. It looked like it was really pissed off whispering, and for once, Gregory wasn't the one who was the pissed off one.

There were nods, shakes, and of course, the Spanish Inquisition, but who really expects those twats?

The ranger then headed off in the distance, abandoning the three. Gregory had some explaining to do.

"So, what was all that about?" Sarah asked, as Gregory and Tempest came to her position. Her guardian looked flustered, exhausted.

"He will be stationed here, at least until the orc commander has been vanquished." Gregory answered, going down on one knee to talk to Sarah.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo -"

Smack!

"Sarah!" Gregory shouted, "what was that all about?"

"He's a dickhead! Please tell me you will have us separated as much as possible! I think one day I just might snap and try to kill the little bastard!"

"What?" Gregory replied, clearly confused, "Sarah, why are you in such a mood to make such dangerous threats?"

"He didn't give me a magical-golden bottle!" Sarah feebly complained. This night was just getting worse and worse.

"Oh!" Tempest squealed, as she managed to raise the bottle she was holding, so Sarah could see it, "Don't worry Sarah, I'll administer the ointment."

"Thank the great big old man for you Tempest," Sarah proclaimed, as Tempest once again, treated Sarah's wounds.

Once the magnificent magical gold stuff did its magnificent magical gold stuff, Sarah rose up.

She scanned the road for something she didn't have, and found it, her sword. The weight of the sword was much heavier than she remembered, but she also remembered that she wasn't in "battle mode".

The three walked silently in the night, back to their home base, awaiting further adventure.

_A new arrival, and a new milestone for Sarah to surpass. His part is larger than mere guard duty, however._


End file.
